Beizhou City. A luxurious flying vessel hovered steadily in the sky above Beizhou City. The vessel was not large, its entire body as white as jade, with azure formation runes faintly visible on its hull, flowing slowly like ripples on water. After the downfall of the Formation Sect, the forces that could still afford to maintain a flying vessel of this caliber could be counted on one hand. And indeed, that was the reality—although the Beast Taming Sect had declined and been annexed, they could still manage to produce a few ancestral flying vessels.
Su Li sat in the center of the flying vessel, leaning half-way against the armrest, her long, uncombed hair draping over her shoulders. She let out a yawn, a tear squeezing out from the corner of her eye. “Where are we?” her voice was quiet, laced with the laziness of someone who had just woken up.
“Replying to the Young Sect Master, we have arrived at Beizhou City,” the disciple piloting the vessel answered respectfully. “We will reach Black Mountain Fort in another hour.” His back was straight as a board, his hands firmly controlling the helm, his eyes not daring to wander as fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He had no idea what kind of madness had possessed his Young Sect Master to insist on piloting a flying vessel to such a remote place. Wouldn't taking a teleportation array be better? It was both fast and stable. But he only dared to let these thoughts swirl in his mind; he didn't dare utter a single word. No one had ever seen the complete remains of the senior brother who had last spoken out of turn in front of the Young Sect Master.
At that thought, his fingers tightened around the helm, channeling another surge of spiritual energy. The flying vessel's speed suddenly surged, and the wind rushed past both sides of the hull with a howling whoosh. Su Li glanced at him but said nothing.
Less than half a cup of tea's time after the vessel accelerated, the hull suddenly tilted violently. It wasn't a simple jolt—it was spinning. As if something had grabbed it by the tail, the entire vessel spun in a circle mid-air. Su Li's body swayed, and she braced herself against the armrest with one hand, her long hair tossing over her shoulder, completely unbothered to tidy it.
“What happened?” Her voice wasn't heavy, but her eyes had already narrowed. Her gaze swept over the disciple, carrying a trace of impatience and some inexplicable implication.
The sweat on the disciple's forehead instantly turned into a rushing stream. Spiritual energy poured wildly from his palms as he desperately tried to stabilize the helm, but the flying vessel refused to cooperate, spinning another half-circle. His lips trembled, his teeth chattering with a clicking sound. “Y-Young Sect Master... the, the vessel seems to be...”
“Seems to be what?”
“Seems to be a bit... a bit out of control...” His voice grew quieter and quieter, his last words almost swallowed back into his stomach.
Su Li did not reply. She leaned against the armrest, her fingers lightly tapping twice against its jade surface, tap, tap. The clouds outside drifted past the vessel, a dirty grayish-white, far inferior to the blue skies of the Central Continent. She tilted her head to look, then turned back, staring at the disciple who was on the verge of tears. The vessel was still spinning, slowing down but not coming to a complete stop. Su Li didn't say anything about speeding up, nor did she tell him to stop. She just leaned there, waiting. Waiting for the vessel to stabilize on its own, or waiting until she lost her patience. The disciple didn't dare raise his head. He didn't know if the Young Sect Master's gaze was fixed on him or on the gloomy sky outside the window. He only knew that he was just one sentence from the Young Sect Master away from becoming the next senior brother to feed the birds. The flying vessel shook a few more times in mid-air before finally stopping its spin entirely. The formation runes on the helm had mostly dimmed; pouring spiritual energy into it was like throwing a stone into the ocean, failing to kick up even a single splash. The disciple frantically injected his spiritual energy several times, but the helm remained completely motionless. The hull tilted slightly to one side like an old beast struck in a vital spot, too exhausted to even struggle.
Su Li didn't speak. She leaned against the armrest, her fingers gently tapping on the jade surface. Tap, tap—the sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet cabin. The disciple didn't dare look up. The sweat from his forehead dripped down his nose and onto the back of his hand, but he didn't dare wipe it away. He knew the Young Sect Master was waiting—waiting for him to speak first. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
“Y-Young Sect Master... the vessel... can't move anymore.”
Su Li's fingers stopped. Only the sound of the wind remained in the cabin, squeezing through the cracks of the window with a low howl.
“How long to repair it?”
“A-At least three days...” The disciple's voice grew smaller and smaller, like a child who had done something wrong, wishing he could squeeze himself into the cracks of the floorboards.
Su Li didn't answer. She stood up and walked to the porthole. The sky outside was gloomy; the sky of the Northern Border was never blue. She took a glance, turned around to grab a storage bag, threw on an outer robe, and walked toward the cabin door. The disciple froze, raising his head, his lips trembling. “Young Sect Master, what are you—”
“I'll walk.” Su Li didn't look back.
The cabin door opened, and the wind rushed in, blowing her hair backward. She didn't cast a Wind-Repelling Spell, nor did she look back at the disciple. Her feet stepped onto the gangway, thud, thud, thud, walking down very steadily step by step. The disciple slumped at the cabin door, watching that slender silhouette grow more and more distant until it vanished at the end of the dusty highway. The wind blew his hair into a messy tangle. He opened his mouth, but in the end, only two words escaped: “I'm finished...”
Everything he had was completely finished...
After night fell completely, several more figures appeared on the highway outside the gates of Black Mountain Fort. They weren't ordinary travelers, but cultivators on the move. They hurried along, suppressing their escape lights and flying low to the ground, terrified of being spotted. They were not of the same group. The leading pack was heavily built, wearing armor patched together from beast skins, with wolf heads tattooed on their bare arms. They were from the Beast Soul Sect, notorious desperadoes in the bounty-hunting circles of the Northern Border. Trailing behind them was another group, about a mile back, not following too closely but not losing them either. The Moon Walkers, the most mysterious assassin organization in the Northern Border. No one knew where their headquarters was, nor did anyone know how many of them there were. All that was known was that they didn't accept contracts based on price, but on their mood. A month ago, a name had been added to the Moon Walkers' assassination list—Jiang Ci.
The Beast Soul Sect arrived first, crouching behind a dirt mound by the highway, plotting how to enter the city. The Moon Walkers arrived later, stepping out from the shadow behind a large boulder by the roadside. He squatted behind the very same dirt mound the Beast Soul Sect had used. He didn't pull out a portrait, only staring at the gates of Black Mountain Fort for a few breaths.
“Ten thousand spirit crystals,” his voice was very soft. “Found her.” He stood up and walked toward the city gates at a leisurely pace. But starting from that night, another pair of eyes watched from the shadows of Black Mountain Fort.
If the Abandoned Guest Hall was added to the mix...
With four factions... they had just enough to play a damn game of mahjong.
Rate on N.U.
